


Seraflora

by evr



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 15:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evr/pseuds/evr
Summary: A certain flower shop in Ladylake may as well be invisible. Walk-in customers are extremely rare, but they're getting a lot more referrals for weddings lately.(Republished)





	1. Lilac

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr in 2016, in like, February, but I deleted everything so I don't remember exactly when. All I did was change the name from ph to f. it looks better that way to me? man idk
> 
> Also it was my first time using present tense and I now cannot stand it, what was i thinking

 

 

June isn’t a busy month, but it’s a good one. Every bride in the world comes in for consultations (which Mikleo can charge them for) and they always want such interesting (or maybe the better description is bizarre, in some cases) things that challenge his talents. He looks forward to it, honestly, even if he can’t comprehend the fanatical obsession with being a June Bride - wearing heavy clothing in the summer would just make him overheat. Not to mention, in the heat the flowers never last very long.

Purple has been the most popular color this year. Flowers they never have a chance to order fill the cooler and the countertops, and the shop smells amazing. Lilacs, this time. The bride wanted Lilacs to be in every arrangement, so they ordered it a few days early to make sure they’d look okay. The orchids would come later. Maybe this isn’t what he wants to do with the rest of his life, but it’s times like these that he does enjoy the job.

He’s helping Zaveid load the day’s deliveries when he catches that guy across the street staring at him again. He’s been in the store twice; each time he awkwardly bought something simple, like a single rose, and left. His name is Sorey, and Mikleo only knows that because Sorey made a point to remember _his_ name, and it seemed like a smarter choice to just play along. Even so, he can’t fathom why Sorey has made a habit of staring at him. It’s the kind of thing that only embarrasses him, and he tries not to let the others notice.

“Alright, that should do it,” Zaveid slams the back of the van shut while Mikleo is distracted, making him jump, “Mickey’s got something on his mind today, does he?”

“Only that you need to keep your shirt buttoned.” Mikleo answers, unimpressed, “You can’t keep presenting yourself to customers like that.”

Zaveid is unphased and shrugs, “Hmm! You’re definitely hiding something. A secret love?”

Mikleo sighs, ignores him and walks away. Zaveid is used to it and is gone before Mikleo is back inside the store. He glances back one more time, and finds Sorey still watching him. How does someone so easily distracted keep his job, anyway?

 

 

After he finishes (early today, around 2PM), for whatever reason he feels like trying whatever the bakery has to offer. He’s been there before once - they have some actual sandwiches and whatnot on sale for lunch and dinner - but he’s always more interested in the sweet pastries. He can’t seem to bake things like that himself, always forgetting them in the oven or something, so he usually prefers to make cold treats for himself at home. But he has a sweet tooth and he likes variety, so he’ll pick something out today. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll figure out what Sorey’s problem with him is. No use tiptoeing around the issue when he can confront him and move on.

Well, he _thinks_ that, but as soon as the bell above the door chimes and Sorey looks up at him he freezes up. Sorey is beaming already, and Mikleo realizes he’s gotten things wrong. This seems… a lot worse, somehow. More embarrassing, at least.

“…Hi.”

“H-hey! Can I get you something?”

Mikleo breaks eye contact and glances around the displays, suddenly too tongue-tied to pick anything out for himself. “Just… Something sweet. Do you recommend anything?”

His eyes meet Sorey’s again just briefly, long enough to notice that he’s red in the face (and Mikleo, to be fair, probably is just as much after realizing what the problem actually was). He can’t watch but in the corner of his eye as Sorey fumbles around and pulls something out for him, holding it out for him just inches from his face, “Try this! On me. I'd… I’d be happy if you tried it.”

“Dude! Don’t just give stuff away, what’s wrong with you?” He hears a girl hiss at Sorey - he doesn’t know her name - and Sorey laughs under his breath.

“It should be okay since I made it, right…?” The girl glares at him but sighs.

“Don’t make a habit of it.”

“Um…” Mikleo draws Sorey’s attention back to him and adds, “I’ll pay for it, it’s fine. It’s just that I’m on my way home, so…”

“Right! I’m sorry!”

Mikleo looks away, catching an appraising stare from that girl while Sorey frantically wraps the pastry up to-go. Apparently she’s just as aware of it as he is now. He can’t get out of there fast enough. When he does get to eat the pastry, he decides it’s good, but his stomach hurts too much to enjoy it.

 

 

 

He’s making the centerpieces for the wedding when Sorey visits the next day. There’s twenty-two to make, full of lavender roses, lilacs and amber-colored cymbidium orchids, accented with various decorative grasses. It’s no surprise that they’re time-consuming, but the profit from them is well worth it.

He doesn’t immediately react to Sorey’s arrival, but he does notice that Sorey is watching him with a strange look of admiration on his face.

Lailah is the one to speak to him first, “Welcome back! What can we do for you today?”

Sorey looks startled, “A-actually, I was just stopping by to talk to Mikleo.”

“Oh~?” She sounds entirely too happy about it, that singsong lilt in her voice that he recognizes from when she’d make fun of him for something. “Alright then! Mikleo, why don’t I take care of those for a few minutes?”

He bites back his first reaction - it would have been rude to dismiss Sorey so quickly when he’d been so kind and hadn’t really asked for anything from him - and smiles, just a bit, as he accepts her offer and steps around the counter to talk.

…But maybe not. The silence isn’t all that comfortable, and it’s a good thirty seconds of pure awkwardness before Sorey speaks up. “Um. Did you like it?”

Right. Pastry. “Yes, I did.”

There’s a sigh, a smile spreads on Sorey’s face. “Good. That’s good…” He scratches the back of his neck and Mikleo wonders if it’s a nervous tic, “Listen, can I…”

Mikleo looks at the ground.

“Uh, when will you be finished today?”

“Four O'Clock!” Lailah announces loudly from the other side of the store, giving herself up as an eavesdropper. Mikleo clenches his fists, but hides that behind his back and nods in confirmation.

“Great! Mind if I come by then?”

“…I suppose not.” Sorey’s glee is remarkable, and Mikleo covers his mouth as though he thinks it’s contagious. “I should get back to work now.”

“Oh! Wait, here!” A paper bag with the bakery’s logo and a checker pattern on one side is shoved at him, and he holds it curiously before Sorey continues, “I thought you might like lunch.”

So much for not making a habit of it. He can’t help but smile a little, and he nods, “Thank you, then…I’ll see you later.”

Sorey is bright red when he leaves. Even his ears. Mikleo wonders briefly if those earrings of his are sanitary to wear in a place that serves food, but figures they must be.

Lailah peers around some of the flower buckets on the counter with a sly smile, “My, my…”

“Don’t start.” He goes back to his workspace and notes that she accomplished nothing while she was spying.

“That’s right! You’ve never dated anyone before!” Lailah cheers, “Oh, you’re so lucky! He seems so nice.”

“That’s _not_ what’s happening here!”

“Aaaah, I wish a nice guy would admire me everyday like that! And he brought you lunch! It’s so sweet!”

He pauses and stares at her for a few seconds. “Zaveid does that. Literally, every day.”

Lailah stomps her foot, raises her voice (being dramatic for no reason, as far as he can tell) and tells him “Oh, you don’t _get_ it, Mikleo!” And then gets to work helping him finish the centerpieces.

 

 

 

In truth, they’re done around three, cleaned up by three-thirty and Edna is already done with classes and loitering as always. Her family is friends with Lailah’s so she’s usually around, but Mikleo isn’t intrusive enough to pry into that situation, and just puts up with her bitter sarcasm every day he sees her (well, okay, he doesn’t so much put up with that as she baits him into arguments until he ends up with his foot in his mouth, but still). It’s annoying, staying later in the afternoon, but part of him is excited in a way he couldn’t really put to words if he tried.

Edna sits at the shop’s computer playing a game since it isn’t busy, Lailah writes the cards for days ahead, and he’s just waiting now, messing with a flower with a stem that broke too short to use. A carnation with red stripes that looks like peppermint candies. At ten minutes until four, he’s made himself so nervous that he feels ill again. Lailah eventually snatches the flower from his hand.

“That’s the wrong message entirely.” She decides, handing him something else. “Daffodil. That’s better.”

“I doubt he knows anything about flower meanings, and even then, this one is…”

He hears Edna stop typing, just for a second, and knows this is going to go horribly wrong when the door opens.

Lailah is still standing too close. Edna is staring. Sorey walks up to him and he can’t meet his eyes this time at _all_. “Welcome back, Sorey.” Lailah smiles at him, then back at Mikleo.

His face is burning.

“Thanks,” He says to her. Sorey seems so unbothered by their presence, and that annoys him more than he’s envious, “Mikleo, are you still busy?”

 _No, you idiot_. He shakes his head.

“D'you maybe want to catch a movie? Or dinner, or something?”

He’s not troubled by Sorey looking at him now, it’s the expectant stares of the girls in the room that get to him. The stem in his hand is bent out of shape and useless and he shakes his head again, “Sorry. I’m not really interested in things like that.”

Sorey starts to actually _deflate_ , and Edna speaks up, “By that he means he’s a total closet nerd. You’d be suffering trips to museums and historical documentaries. You’ll be bored to death.”

“Edna…” Lailah tries, “Don’t pick on him so much.”

A silence is building and Mikleo finally grows the spine to look Sorey in the face, finding _stars_ in his eyes. He’s taken aback, but Sorey grabs his free hand, “Really? You too!? That’s so great!”

Mikleo wishes he could step back, but the counter is in the way. Instead he’s just staring incredulously, unable to answer.

“I love that sort of thing! I visit every new exhibit, and I just recorded the latest documentary on the Gaferis Ruins last night! And I–!” He pats his side, looking for something, then drops Mikleo’s hand. “Hold on, I’ll be right back!”

Another silence builds. Edna breaks it. “…Lailah. Did that really just happen?”

 

 

 

It’s the Celestial Record. That’s what he’d been looking for and made Mikleo wait for. It’s a well-loved copy, the spine damaged beyond repair, folded corners and post-its saving pages, but Mikleo isn’t really that impressed. Even so, somehow he was talked into letting Sorey walk home with him (Which is weird, because Mikleo is pretty sure Sorey has a car. He’s not sure why he thinks that, but he does).

The whole way, Sorey goes on and on about how much he wants to see the ruins and artifacts of the world. It’s the kind of thing Mikleo agrees with wholeheartedly, and he finds himself smiling at everything except the parts about the Celestial Record. It doesn’t take Sorey long to notice that.

“It's… Not that there’s anything wrong with the book, per se.” Mikleo tries to explain, doing his best not to air his family’s dirty laundry to a guy he’s kind of starting to like. A lot. And it’s strange that he’d like him even after bringing up the Celestial Record - the book is _really_ well-known, and people have tried to get close to him because of it (and its author) before, but none of them had Sorey’s awkward sincerity. “I read it dozens of times growing up. The author is the problem.”

“You met him?!”

He nods, and somehow Sorey picks up that this is a touchy subject. He shrugs. “You can even have my copy, if you want. It’s signed.”

“Isn’t that important?”

It’s not. It’s really not. It’d be easy for him to get dozens more if he spoke to his uncle again, but it won’t ever happen and he doesn’t need it to. Instead, he takes Sorey’s copy from his hands and opens it to a random saved page. There are notes in the margins, and it makes him a little happy to see it. “We can trade, if you think it’s worth it?”

Sorey’s cheeks are red and he seems to be starstruck. Mikleo is starting to find it annoyingly cute.

“I’m more interested in seeing what you’ve added to it. What do you think? Deal?”

They’re standing in front of Mikleo’s apartment building now, and he’s feeling a little bold when Sorey nods. He enters the building code (somehow he can tell Sorey is looking over his shoulder, and he doesn’t mind. If Sorey can memorize it from just seeing it now, more power to him) and takes Sorey’s hand to make him keep up on the stairs to the second level.

Once inside, he sets Sorey’s copy of the book on a table and skims his bookshelves for his own while Sorey stands awkwardly in the doorway. He’d correct him, tell him to just come inside and stop being weird, but right now being weird feels about right. He thinks they’ll be good enough friends in time, and slides his smooth, like-new copy of the Celestial Record off the shelf and into Sorey’s hands.

“Please date me.”

“That’s a hell of a way to say thank you.” His confidence has returned to him now that he isn’t surrounded by people who like to provoke him. He smiles though, because even if Sorey’s weird it’s really endearing right now.

“I mean it! I wanted to feel things out today, but you're…”

There’s a pause, tension growing into butterflies.

“You’re _perfect_.”

Mikleo claps a hand over his mouth and laughs, “Are you seriously human?” Sorey looks upset and he corrects himself, “Who says things like that?”

“Well you are!” Sorey insists, gesturing at the bookshelves, “We read the same things over and over, your place is decorated with replicas of stuff I’ve wanted to go out and see since I was a kid… I dunno, it feels like I hit some kind of jackpot.”

It’s true, from where Sorey is standing, the shelves are full of all sorts of books but only certain types have the spines worn out from repeated reading. The ‘replicas’ around his place aren’t really all replicas, but that seems useless to point out - mostly they’re gifts from his uncle, and they just interest him too much to throw away, or sell. “…What are you going to do if I’m not interested?”

Sorey holds his new book protectively against his chest, as if that statement were enough to snatch it from his hands and slam the door in his face. “I’ve been under the impression that you were for a while now…” he says, looking aside, “I mean, you kept staring at me, so–”

“Isn’t that the other way around?”

“Haha… Yeah, a bit.”

Their conversation dies, a few seconds pass, and Mikleo finally says, “Okay.”

“Huh?” Sorey is startled, but elation blooms on his face with the realization, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Hurry and come in and close the door, will you?” From the start, he’d never planned to say no anyway. Originally, he thought he’d talk sense into him, point out that they have nothing in common. This feels like a much, much nicer outcome.

 

 

 

The wedding bouquet is a wild cascade of orchids, lilies and lilac. He’s added heather because it looks nice, not because he was told to. Sorey’s been watching Mikleo make it since he got off work, but he hasn’t said anything yet. Lailah has started getting weirded out, and glances between the two of them periodically once she finishes the altar decorations. “D-did something nice happen yesterday after all?” The tips of her fingers cover her mouth, but she’s only acting bashful. Really, she just wants to hear gossip.

It was _nice_ , sure, but nothing grand or world-changing. Sorey stayed over for an hour or two, they talked about an upcoming exhibit at the history museum in the city and made plans to go to see it, and then they spoke of their goals for the future and got awkward when they matched up so well it almost sounded like they were meant to be together, if either one of them believes in fate. And  _Lailah does_ , so he’s already sure he never wants to tell her that the thought crossed his mind.

“I think I’m in love.” Sorey announces, and Mikleo nearly drops the bouquet.

Lailah smiles sweetly at him, her hands over rosy cheeks, “Oh, really? Do continue.”

“Sorey, _no_.” Mikleo tries to be as calm as possible, but the heat has risen in his face and he knows he can’t keep his cool.

Sorey smiles too, but just at him. Once Lailah realizes she’s not getting an answer, she moves on to prepare little bundles of lilac and ribbons for the pews. “Sorey, would you like to come with us while we decorate the church?”

“Can I?” He asks Mikleo. The first thought is that it’s cute, even though he’s gotten the offer he still asks.

“I won’t be going. I’m taking care of the shop while they set it up.”

“Oh. I’d rather not then.”

Lailah’s stifling her laughter, but she compares Sorey to a puppy and hands him a short piece of lilac with no explanation. Mikleo knows that she likes to treat flower meanings like fortunes, and considering how unusual it is to have the lilac in store, she’s read too much into it as always.

It means 'first love’, and Mikleo won’t tell Sorey that even if his life depends on it.

 

 


	2. Baby's Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested "first kiss".

Since the day Sorey convinced Mikleo to date him, just four days ago, habits have already started changing. Before, when Mikleo got home he’d stagnate, read something he already knew cover-to-cover, maybe look at travel destinations he hadn’t the motivation to get up and go to, or watch shows that barely held his interest. Now he’s finding himself thumbing through the Celestial Record with such care and attention that he hasn’t shown it in years. Sorey’s notes in the margins of this old copy (a first edition, but so battered it will never have much value to collectors) breathe new life into the book and give it a deeper separation from the author, a refreshing change that makes it readable again. Messy but legible handwriting is on the edge of every page, and he doesn’t always agree with the words but he likes seeing another perspective.

It barely took him a day to reach a level of fascination with Sorey that he’s only felt once before, for his uncle, when he was still a child who couldn’t understand that what the man had done was wrong. He’s not a child anymore, and won’t be fooled again, but he doesn’t think he will be regardless. Sorey has already given him all the power between them on a silver platter, so now Mikleo is the one who gets to decide how things are going to go. It feels safe.

Every day since getting his ‘yes’, Sorey’s overflowing positivity has been almost unbearable. Edna groans when he walks in to visit, even Lailah can’t keep up with him. Zaveid, thankfully, still has no idea (and he’s sure of that, because Zaveid invited him to meet girls just yesterday. He’s hoping that stops without needing to drag Sorey into it).

Sorey visits every day on his breaks and watches Mikleo work, talks to him about things Mikleo finds absolutely captivating, and waits until the last second before he goes back to the bakery. Mikleo, for his part, is only half-tempted to start getting breakfast at the bakery on his way into work. Today he stopped for coffee and it turned out to be unpalatable sludge, but Sorey had been so … _cute_.

He steps inside the flower shop and drains the coffee in the sink, and Lailah giggles from her desk.

“Only get the coffee if Rose is brewing it,” She tells him as though it’s a great nugget of truth that would change his world.

“Got it. Thanks.” Even so, he wonders what happens to all that wasted coffee. Or who knows, maybe it’s not wasted - he has a feeling Sorey could charm him into drinking it if he’d stayed there, there’s a chance he’s not alone in that.

There’s only twelve orders to fill, and they breeze through them. After that, Lailah decides to take a walk and leaves the store to Mikleo, because they’re never busy enough to bother caring about timing their breaks in the Summer. If not for weddings, the season would almost be dead.

There’s three weddings booked for the next two weeks. Most of the work is pretty standard - hand-tied bouquets for the whole bridal party, some simple church decorations and they all want fairly common flowers. After a while, he’ll be sick of Calla Lilies and he knows it.

A young woman comes in when he’s doing absolutely nothing of value (but he was thinking about tonight, and his upcoming first date ever, and maybe that means something to someone), and she looks around nervously as though she’s walking into a trap. “Um… Is this… Well, of course it’s the flower shop.” She chides herself even though he’s gotten the 'is this a flower shop’ question once a week since he started working. It’s just a weird thing that keeps happening. “I’m Alisha. I never knew this place was here.”

“We get that a lot.” Mikleo shrugs and smiles, “Do you need something?”

“Yes, well. Rose and Sorey sent me here. I’m getting married on rather short notice, next month. Um, Rose told me to ask for Lailah, but Sorey said to ask for Mikleo. Who should I…?”

That sounds about right. He holds a laugh back and grabs the wedding design books and a pen to help her out. He’s glad Lailah doesn’t come back until after she leaves, because the lunatic would have had a field day with the girl’s flower choices.

 

 

 

“You’re not going out dressed like that, are you?”

“Edna, don’t make him nervous.”

Mikleo glances at his clothes - casual, better than he usually wore for work, and definitely, _definitely_ not stained with lily pollen (it’s a real problem some days). They’re going to the museum, not the opera or whatever, so he thought this would be fine. Edna’s expression and Lailah’s terrible job of defending him tell him otherwise. “Is… Something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Too late.”

“Nothing is wrong, Mikleo!” Lailah claps her hands once, flashing him a bright smile. “Sorey will be here any minute, so–”

“So it’s not like you can fix that trainwreck, anyway.” Edna taps the handle of her umbrella on the counter and leans back boredly. He knows she’s exaggerating but he clenches his fists and Lailah has to keep him from getting worked up by patting his shoulders reassuringly.

“Are you worried, Mikleo?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks aside and tries to ignore the girls.

“I’m sure your love will _blossom_! We’re all _rooting_ for you!” For a few seconds, the only sound in the shop is Edna’s umbrella tapping on the counter. Lailah though, she looks excited.

He groans and covers his face, but it did work. He’s certainly less nervous now.

“How long have you been saving that one?” Edna seems amused, more by the awfulness of the joke than the joke itself.

“All week!” Lailah cheers, “I kept worrying he’d stress out, since this is his first– Oh. Hello, Sorey!”

Mikleo jumps and spins around to find Sorey behind him, beaming and about to greet him properly. “How did you–”

“I took the bell off the door just for this,” Edna’s amusement at his expense continues, and he really wants to leave. So he grabs Sorey’s hand and drags him outside with him, not looking back for a second to see what the girls thought of that. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Sorey has that annoyingly cute expression on his face again.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sca–”

“You didn’t _scare_ me.” Mikleo snaps, stubborn. Sorey looks doubtful but doesn’t say anything further about it, and Mikleo takes the chance to look him over now, and feel better about his clothing choice. Edna had just been baiting him, then. Casual is fine. His face is really red though, probably because Mikleo hasn’t let go of his hand just yet. He snatches it back and mumbles a quick apology.

“Ready to go?” Sorey asks him, and he nods, following along to the car while trying his best not to make the day more awkward than it already is. He really wants this to go well; there’s an added weight to the concept of failure here, losing out on a friend as well as …He isn’t quite ready to call Sorey a romantic interest, but as the thought crosses his mind, his heart races.

 

 

 

He wants to say the date was weird; their interests mesh perfectly, so they were drawn to the same artifacts again and again. He’s pretty sure they’d gathered a tour group following their discussions at one point, but he was so engrossed in talking about the historical significance of this or the proper translations for that, he couldn’t really tell. A pissed-off tour guide was eyeing them when they left, though.

Sorey asked him to go with him again, to another museum, because they hadn’t had enough time together. Mikleo agreed. They’ll meet on Sunday, when they will both be off work.

At least he can say that it wasn’t a disaster. Sorey kept stealing glances at him, being way too obvious. He kept grinning like a lovestruck idiot. He kept taking Mikleo’s hand.

His mind isn’t in his work the next day. The arrangements get done, but he accents a design with decorative feathers that they’ve never found a use for and probably forgot all about until today. Lailah hides her smile behind a wrapped bouquet.

“Oh, they look quite nice! I’m not saying anything~”

He can’t really do much other than glare. The feathers stay.

Edna’s arrival doesn’t even manage to put a damper on his mood (as much as she hates it). After he’s done and about to head home in the mid-afternoon, Sorey joins him. Their fingers lace together easily, though if Mikleo is honest the heat of the season makes it hard to tolerate. But he does, all the same. All of this in lieu of a proper greeting, and he has a feeling he’ll fall for it every time.

“I had a lot of fun last night.”

“Me, too.”

Their eyes meet and they both look away. Is Sorey being shy? He couldn’t honestly tell. “Are you walking me home again?”

“I want to.” Sorey is straightforward about a great many things. He’s a bit relieved, since he’s found trouble with that for himself. Even just carrying a normal conversation now seems impossible. He’s tempted to bring up things about their city, the bridge they pass over that was constructed two centuries ago, the history behind the waterwheel, and he bites his tongue because these are all things Sorey would already know.

A dog barks and he jumps, letting go of Sorey’s hand and grabbing his sleeve instead.

“What a cute dog!” Sorey is excited, kneeling to pet it (long, sharp teeth, jowls in a stretched animalistic grin and dark, intimidating eyes, Mikleo wonders what part of that creature was supposed to be 'cute’). The owner seems pleased, and Mikleo steps back a few paces while Sorey scratches behind the beast’s ears. It takes him a few seconds to notice Mikleo’s discomfort, and he stands and waves to the owner as they continue walking. The dog eyes Mikleo and pants heavily, giving him chills. “Are you scared of dogs, Mikleo?”

“Scared? No, I just…”

Sorey laughs at him, not to be cruel but it doesn’t exactly make him feel any more at ease. “I think I just found your only flaw.”

“…Excuse me?”

“So far, you have exactly one.”

This is the first time Sorey teases him (it won’t be the last), and it takes him a minute to actually realize it’s a compliment; before then, he says, “Y-you too! I mean, I don’t get why anyone would like those…” His words taper off.

Sorey laughs again, a hand over his mouth, “Really? I just have one?”

Okay, liking dogs isn’t a flaw. Mikleo knows that, and the only reason he’s one of the few who doesn’t is because he was bitten as a kid. Without that, though, everything that would count as a flaw to everyone else, Mikleo found endearing in Sorey. He messes up sometimes (he’ll never understand how he works in a bakery), has no filter, and … And there are probably some other things, but nothing that actually stands out as something he wants to call a flaw. Mikleo looks away, frustrated, and Sorey takes his hand again so they can keep walking, leaving that question hanging in the air and looking far too pleased with himself.

 

 

 

On Sunday, he dresses nicely. It’s Lailah and Edna’s fault, they spent all afternoon the day before listing off the perfect outfits out of clothes they knew he had, and settled on one that was so painfully out of season that he’d really suffer for it if they spent too long outdoors, but according to them, it drew attention to 'all the right parts of him’. So he fell for it. And he’s wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt that hugs his waist, and he’s annoyed that it actually does exactly what they said it did.

He’s only slightly surprised that Sorey seems to have dressed nicely, too. It's… not _exactly_ the first time Mikleo has noticed how attractive he is. “I guess you  _can_ put lipstick on a pig.”

“Harsh.” Laughter betrays him. His _eyes_ betray him, because he keeps leering. And yet, all they do that feels date-like is hold hands. Mikleo isn’t sure what to make of it. He’s glad though, that an art museum does less to keep their attention away from each other than a history museum did, and provides them a chance to actually learn more about each other. He and Sorey are both technically students, though extremely part-time, they both come from strange families in towns that are surprisingly close to each other, and Sorey is perfectly willing to talk about how great his is, and neither of them have ever dated before and thus have no idea how to deal with this.

 

 

 

 

It’s a deliberate choice, those coral roses and vibrant red anemones framed in lemongrass shaped like a heart, a cute design with flowers that shouldn’t match. It’s a small bud vase, nothing to be sold, and as Lailah hands it to him with a bright smile on her face, he gets it. “Would you mind taking this and a few business cards over to the bakery? I think we ought to share business with them more often.”

He’s standing there holding the vase and glaring at her, but she ignores him and hums a song to herself as she gets back to work. She’s only _motivated_ when she’s like this, and maybe he ought to feel glad she’s working hard, but he can’t when he knows what she’s up to. There’s not much else he can do about it though. He takes a small stack of their cards and walks across the street.

Coral roses for desire.

Anemones for anticipation.

Even the grass pisses him off. He’s not a very showy or expressive person (in his opinion), so she can’t know these things. She can’t, plain and simple, but even so she’s baiting him. And as always, he’s taking the bait and it’s making him grumpy.

He slams the vase down on the counter at the bakery so hard it sounds like it might shatter, but it luckily does not.

Rose is the one in front right now, raising an eyebrow at him and cocking her head, “What’s gotten into you?” Lighthearted and easy, she folds her arms and treats him like nothing’s wrong. He wonders, sometimes, the things Sorey tells her. He wonders if she knows about their dates, about that giddy way Sorey always holds his hand and can’t stop smiling even when they’re in public and he ought to know better. About how Sorey hasn’t so much as kissed him yet.

“ _Nothing_.” He answers. He isn’t even trying to make a joke, though he hopes the obviousness of that one flies over Rose’s head. Before she can respond, he leaves again. (As an afterthought, he supposes he ought to have explained why he was leaving business cards and a small vase there, but it should be obvious enough during wedding season.)

As he’s walking out, he hears Rose call to the back, “What did you _do_?”

Maybe he’s the one messing this up. He always gets so wrapped up in their conversations that he’s never felt the right mood build. No, that’s not true. Several times he’s looked at Sorey’s impassioned face during their discussions and felt his own pulse quicken. He wonders if the same was true of Sorey, but he can’t just ask.

Around noon, Sorey shows up and brings him a snack. “Did I do something wrong?” He blurts it out and Mikleo knows Rose gave him trouble, and feels appropriately bad about it.

“No. Nothing wrong,” He’s calmed down from earlier tension eased while Lailah can’t talk to him because she’s taking a phone order from someone who apparently rambles a lot. “I didn’t mean to give that impression.”

“You should come over tonight.”

Mikleo’s heart skips a beat and he swears Lailah’s attention starts to hone in on them, but he’s sure Sorey doesn’t mean _that_. He’s forward but not quite that much. “I should?”

“Yeah. There’s a documentary I think you’ll like.”

Mikleo breathes easier (Lailah still seems interested because she doesn’t know yet how honest Sorey is), and he nods, “Okay. What’s it about?”

“The Weylish ruins.” Sorey’s face brightens as he mentions it and Mikleo imagines his does the same.

“Oh, really? Is it new?”

“Just came out a week ago.”

They become enveloped in conversation, and time slips past too quickly. Lailah is the one that snaps them out of it once she’s off the phone.

“Sorey… I know you mean well, but Mikleo can’t work without both of his hands.”

Sorey snatches his hand away and apologizes, Mikleo reddens and gets back to work. There are a few minutes left on Sorey’s break that they spend in silence, but before he leaves, he wraps his arms around Mikleo’s waist from behind him, firm as Mikleo stiffens. “I’ll see you later,” He says, quiet because of proximity but not especially affectionate.

Mikleo doesn’t respond, and Sorey walks out. Lailah’s staring. “Oh, my… Is that…”

“Don’t.” He isn’t even sure what she was going to ask, but he doesn’t want to know either.

 

 

 

 

Sorey lives a little further away from the shopping district, so he drives and Mikleo rides home with him, later than he usually leaves work but he didn’t mind waiting. Everything goes really well, Mikleo is able to sit close to him on the couch while they watch, their fingers intertwine and they both steal glances at each other now and then. It’s perfect, comfortable.

It takes about forty minutes into watching for them to start a heated argument about the use for some historical device, and they end up going to the library to try and decide who’s right. Because of course they would. They’re the only ones in the world who could end up poring through reference books and still call it a date.

And it is kind of nice. There’s nowhere to sit in this section so they’re sitting side-by-side on the floor, comparing relevant passages and debating them quietly (because they can only be shushed so many times before they get the picture), inching closer over time.

“So we’re both wrong,” Mikleo finally concludes. The information on the device was limited, because apparently experts couldn’t agree on it.

“Or both right,” Sorey offers, shutting the book in his lap. A chime tells them the library will close soon. “We’ve been here a while, haven’t we?”

“Yeah…” They lapse into silence and stand to replace the books on the shelf. Mikleo steps close to him, making steady eye contact and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Is it strange, that this is how I’ve enjoyed myself most with you?”

Sorey takes a while to answer, “Not really. But I’d like to do more.”

Mikleo exhales something like a laugh and takes that as his invitation, his hand slipping from Sorey’s shoulder to the back of his neck as he leans up to kiss him. He doesn’t want to be gentle or chaste, his feelings aren’t so halfhearted as that, and he sincerely wants to ensure that Sorey will become a fixture in his life. He’s known that since he started reading that stupid book again, and it’s only intensified over time.

But _Sorey_. Sorey is so innocent and pure and foolish, even if he reciprocates he pulls away far too soon, staring with a question in his eyes that he can’t seem to put to words. Mikleo understands it fine, and would have answered if he didn’t hear the librarian clear her throat, then storm away muttering to herself about how little respect kids had these days.

Mikleo, thoroughly embarrassed, hides his face against Sorey for a minute, taking solace in Sorey’s excited trembling. The chime rings one more time before they finally get it together and leave. Rather than returning to watch the rest of that documentary, Mikleo ends up going home to try and calm himself down. It doesn’t entirely work.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [gypsophila/baby's breath=purity, protection from outside influence]
> 
> [or ask a floral designer, and they'll tell you it's a filler that smells kind of off most of the time if they're being honest]


	3. Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another request. "First time". I also had "how thirsty is mikleo" and I took that as a challenge tbh

Alisha is almost in tears the next time she enters the flower shop. Since brides are rarely _not_  stressed, Mikleo provides her with a box of tissues they keep behind the counter, which is dismissed with a wave of her hand.

"I'm sorry. It's just so hard to keep up with everything. The date's been pushed back a week, and now the wedding is taking place in Pendrago! There's still so much to do."

Lailah, lounging at her desk and folding sheets of paper, sighs, "If it's in Pendrago, there are florists we can send you to, but that's hours away by train."

Despair spreads on Alisha's face and she openly weeps while Sorey walks in, "Oh, Alisha you're… here."

"Sorey!" She whines, "They're really the best, right?"

Mikleo folds his arms, smirking while Sorey glances at him and laughs sheepishly. It's nice that it's not even surprising that Sorey brags about him.

"Yeah. They are."

"Then you have to come! Mikleo, I'd hoped to invite you anyway since you've been so helpful to me!" Alisha looks absolutely desperate. The stress is clearly overwhelming her.

"Oh, um. He's already coming. I hope."

"I am?" Mikleo raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah… I RSVP'd with a plus one. I was gonna invite you after today."

Alisha's tears stop almost immediately, stress replaced with a quizzical look. "...Really? That's who you're inviting? But the room you booked is--"

"Yeahitsureis" Sorey gestures for her to stop talking. She stares in wonder, and Lailah leans over the counter with a gossip-hungry grin.

"...So, you haven't even invited me yet, and we'll be staying in a room with a single bed. Did I get it right?" His insides flip over, but he'll be damned if he'll let it show on his face. He keeps a professional smile and clicks his pen irritably. Alisha is the only one who doesn't seem to notice that (and honestly? He has to admit, she's really on top of things if she knows what kind of _rooms_  people reserve. He's never met a bride that had it together _that_ well). "That's fine. We'll talk about that later. For now, miss Diphda, you said on the phone that you needed to discuss the altar pieces?"

"Diphda…" Lailah repeats, tapping her chin, "Mikleo! Conference! Cooler! Now!"

He groans and rolls his eyes, which at least seems to entertain the future bride, and follows Lailah into the back cooler, the heavy door shuts behind them with a loud creaking noise. It's not entirely soundproof, so he speaks in an elevated whisper over the whirring cooling unit. "What is it?"

"That's _the_  Alisha Diphda, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, then, glad that's settled, you're going to the wedding with Sorey! I'll talk with our suppliers about shipping to the hotel for you." She smiles way too sweetly and titters behind her hand.

"I'm glad nothing's settled!" He crosses his arms, "What are you talking about?"

"She's from one of the wealthiest families in Ladylake! So her business is very important and if you don't go, I will. You can stay here every day until closing with Edna!" Sinister, sweet, either way, the threat works.

"...Right…"

"And I wouldn't worry, he seems gentle with you."

" _I will get my own room_." He seethes.

She laughs, pushing past him. The cooler is a narrow space and filled with uncleaned roses and filler flowers, so they always move carefully through it, and there really isn't space for two. He takes an extra few seconds to breathe, straightens up, and follows her out.

She spends the rest of the day giggling over Alisha's choice in flowers. Lilies are her favorites, so naturally they must be featured in every single piece.

 

 

After work, he doesn't bother waiting on Sorey, but he's not intending to be rude. He's just feeling too awkward to sit in silence for however long until Sorey gets off. He wants to get home, unwind, and maybe get some rest before having to sort out his travel plans. He didn't really want to go, but that didn't really have anything to do with Sorey.

No, Sorey is an amazing and thoughtful boyfriend (it took a while for Mikleo to warm up to calling him that), and this stunt is amazingly out of character from what Mikleo knew of him. There's probably more to it. He's not sure he wants to know just yet.

He checks his phone when he's home, finding four messages. Two from Alisha with forwarded pictures of the venue and detailed measurements of everything in it. One from Lailah telling him that their supplier agreed to deliver to Pendrago so he can make the pieces there, and the last one from Sorey asking if he can come over later. He responds to the first three easily, and sets his phone down. He's not _ignoring_ him, he just… wants to think.

Maybe he won't get his own room. Maybe intimacy wouldn't feel rushed in that situation. Maybe Sorey wasn't even thinking of that.

...Maybe he should just get a shower and sleep on it. It won't help to stress over personal matters while he still has details to work out professionally. He's only kissed Sorey that one time, after all, so getting carried away seems like a really stupid plan.

His shower is only just loud enough on his ears that he barely hears knocking at his door (and he curses under his breath, because _nobody_  likes being interrupted and he's in an especially annoyed mood that makes it worse today). He scrambles to dress, mostly because he feels like he knows who it is at the door and isn't about to answer in a towel.

He throws on clothes he'd planned to relax in for the rest of the day, clean but worn comfortably thin with age. And then he regrets it, because Sorey's face immediately reddens and he can tell, he's struggling not to stare. "You really did remember the code."

"Y-yeah."

It's really hard to stay irritated, seeing Sorey so embarrassed.

"Are you mad?"

"No." He answers, standing back to let Sorey in and shutting the door behind him, "Not really."

He enters awkwardly, stealing glances at Mikleo rather than really looking at him, "You answered the others but not me, so."

Mikleo huffs, combing wet hair out of his face. He should have thought of that - Sorey is close to Alisha and spoke rather easily with Lailah, so of course he'd figure out that he was the only one Mikleo hadn't answered. "Sorry."

"I should be the one who's sorry!" Sorey does that kind-of-cute panicking thing he does when he's flustered and Mikleo fights back a smile. "I was going to ask if it's okay, and there's still time to change the reservation, so I can do that now if you want!"

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" He asks suddenly, and if Sorey can get any more embarrassed he'd pay money to see it. Seeing Sorey like this instills in him the confidence of the upper hand, and he manages to give him a sly sort of smile, "Just to make sure we won't drive each other crazy."

Sorey starts to nod, and then snaps out of it, "Uh. I should get a change of clothes, and--"

"I have a couple things that might fit you. And a washer and dryer. The bed is a full size, so… We'll fit."

A long silence drags between them and turns his stomach over, his confidence cracking slowly. Nothing is going to happen tonight, he knows, but it doesn't stop him from being nervous. Sorey nods and reaches out to him, the side of his face, and draws him close and suddenly all of his confidence is gone, fire in his chest even as his skin is chilled from the water.

Sorey kisses him and it's shy, earnest and lukewarm at the same time. He can feel the slight trembling in his jaw, the want on his lips that draws him closer. Not to be outdone, Mikleo reaches around Sorey's neck and hugs him, just tight enough to keep Sorey from trying to pull away. Things are going well enough between them that he wants to show it.

He feels Sorey melt against him, either from nerves or glee, and he grins into the kiss, trying his best to savor every part of it. Warm and soft, moving with such care that Mikleo starts to get a little impatient. When Sorey's hand touches his waist with nervous, shaking hands, he recoils suddenly.

Sorey stares at him with wide eyes and it's Mikleo's turn to be embarrassed. "Are you… _Ticklish_?"

"No." He lies immediately, but Sorey tests it again, fingertips light and playful against his sides making him jump back.

"You _are_." He has this expression on his face that clearly says this is never going away, delightedly smiling. Mikleo stands back, biting his lip.

"Don't." He doesn't trust the look on Sorey's face. Even so, he's trying to fight a smile.

"How do you expect me to resist?" Sorey laughs, giddy as he rushes forward to grab Mikleo's sides again and they tumble together onto the floor. Mikleo yelps, then squirms and tries to fight back, managing to prod him in the stomach a few times (he can't tell if Sorey is ticklish but he does seem to react somewhat).

He loses the battle, though, breathless from laughter by the time Sorey lets up, looking just as out of breath. His hands are still glued to Mikleo's waist, effectively pinning him there. "You sure you're okay with me staying?"

"...Yeah, so long as you're not going to keep doing this all night." Sorey shakes his head, and Mikleo takes hold of his collar, tugging him down for another kiss. Aside from being physically abused by Edna's umbrella, or the occasional overdramatic hug from Lailah, or even Zaveid's overly-familiar way of interacting with just about everyone, he's successfully avoided contact from people for most of his life. He can admit, though not out loud, that Sorey's hands on him is something that feels _right_ and from this position, pinned under him on the floor, he can tell that Sorey must feel the same way about it. Looking up at him, able to read him just a little better than before, he gives an awkward half-smile and glances away, "...I never had the chance to finish in the shower."

"...Oh." Sorey manages quietly, standing and helping Mikleo to his feet. "Sorry. Just…" he holds onto Mikleo's hand a few seconds longer and leans forward for one more kiss, because he's so enthusiastic and sweet and doesn't like holding back.

Mikleo is happy, like this. He's suddenly sure that even if they'd just been friends to start with, he would have fallen for Sorey anyway (and then he's annoyed with himself, because he's never admitted to his feelings and he doesn't feel quite ready to say they're all sorted just yet).

"I love you." Sorey clearly doesn't have the same issues with honesty that he does. It's not exactly the first time he's said something to that effect, but it's more direct than before, easier to hear.

He turns red and hides his face against Sorey's clothes, and maybe nods a little.

From there, the night is quiet and tension floats thinly in the air like dust motes. Things are simple enough, though; keeping distracted with books until they're tired, finding pants that fit Sorey but not a shirt (...Mikleo doesn't mind that too much), and there's this one moment, when they climb stiffly into either side of the bed that suddenly feels too large, in which Sorey, under the sheets, finds Mikleo's hand and laces their fingers together.

He turns to look in the dark, seeing faint outlines of Sorey's face, his kind smile and shining eyes, but he doesn't say anything, because he doesn't want to just be swept along by a mood.

"G'night, Mikleo."

"...Good night, Sorey." It doesn't quite feel like enough. Lights sweep past the window and give more definition to Sorey's face, and Mikleo leans close, just for a moment, just for one last kiss goodnight.

He barely sleeps at all that night, but he isn't uncomfortable.

 

 

 

Travel plans are discussed in the following week. In his personal life, no further progress is made, but since he's busy he tries not to think about it.

That's not entirely true, though. Sorey has gotten a lot more familiar with him lately, coming behind the counter when it doesn't seem busy and hugging him around the waist (and it's _always_  around his waist now - now that he _knows_ the skin there is sensitive, fingertips as threatening as a loaded gun when he wears this sneaky grin of his), but they've always got somewhat of an audience between Lailah and Edna, so it never goes further than that. Sometimes he wonders how it would go, if they were alone. He imagines whispers of Sorey's breathing on his neck, those hands sliding down to his hips, the press of his body - and then Lailah asks him if he's feeling okay, he gets back to work and she hums to herself, way too pleased.

The day he leaves (one day before Sorey does, even though Sorey already voiced his disappointment that they wouldn't be travelling together), he heads to the shop to pack up a few things he'll need, like his knife and clippers, and finds Lailah writing the cards.

"Here's a good one," She grins. It's one of her silliest work habits, sharing the intimate contents of some couple's romance from the cards she has to hand-write, " _You had better be naked when I get home. Love, daddy_. Oh… maybe not that last part."

He rolls his eyes, bids her goodbye and leaves.

And still, she's put the idea in his head. He brought a book for the train ride (not Sorey's copy of the Celestial Record, it's too worn out to be shoved in his travel bag with knives and the like), but can't focus on it. He wishes that Sorey was with him, to excitedly chatter about those leaning structures with him through the window. The hours on the train are spent anxiously, and honestly wasted.

His first task when arriving, on the way to the hotel, is to stop by the shop in the city that would be receiving the shipment for him, as Lailah had arranged. He finds it easily, but it's not what he expected, painted in dark-but-stylish colors and patterns, bright orange-yellow hibiscus murals on purple and black. The small woman inside is right at home in there, looking gloomy.

"Are you Symonne?" He asks, fist clenched around the strap of his bag somewhat nervously, "I'm Mikleo. You spoke with the owner of our shop yesterday, and--"

"Our supplier arrives before seven tomorrow morning. Come get it by eight." It's hard to tell if she's being rude or not. "Congratulations on getting the Strelka-Diphda wedding."

"...Thanks for your help. Sorry if we're stepping on your toes."

"No, no… You're a friend of the bride, after all." Her voice sounds like she doesn't believe that, like she's mocking him, and he stiffens, "Besides, I saw your list. Is the bride as boring as her choices?"

His mouth twitches and she laughs. It is beyond chilling. "She has very traditional tastes." He settled on.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to spruce it up…"

"Right… Well, I need to get checked in. Thank you for your help."

"See you tomorrow morning, then."

He sends Alisha a brief email to let her know the time so that a car can be ready to pick up the flowers. Next, he needs to talk to the hotel staff about cool places to store the finished pieces. He can arrange everything in his room (incidentally, he looked up room layouts in the hotel, and the rooms with the queen-sized beds have the best amount of floor space, so Sorey picked a good one). They seem upbeat, but it's still two days before the main event and he's sure they'll be exhausted by the end of the week.

And then… That's it. He checks in, sends messages to Lailah and Sorey letting them know everything is sorted, kicks his shoes off and sits on the bed. It's too early to sleep, but there's nothing else to do today. His phone rings, and he answers without looking.

"Did you see all the monuments?" Sorey's excited voice on the other end brings a smile to his face.

"No, I was hoping to have time to see them with you, after the wedding." There's silence on the other end, and Mikleo laughs lightly, imagining the look on Sorey's face. "Of course I'd wait for you."

He hears Sorey's breathing and leans back on the bed, closing his eyes. "I'm really happy! I haven't been able to explore Pendrago before."

"It seems like the same size as Ladylake, but the buildings are a lot taller." He goes on to tell him about the way the city seems to have been built on top of its own history, the facade of the homes and businesses looking like relics compared to their interiors, and the streets are stone instead of pavement. There are probably areas that are newer, but he hasn't seen them and can't mention them to Sorey.

Their chatter over history winds down slowly, and Sorey finally changes the subject, "Lailah told me I should help you with setting up."

"Yeah? Is she planning on paying you?"

"Maybe. But she said you're probably too short to re--"

"Did she say I'd kill you if you finished that sentence?"

"...Actually, yeah."

That soft, embarrassed laughter sounds different through the call, but it's still the same. He misses it, it's barely been twenty-four hours since he last saw Sorey but he misses him. For a moment, that's pathetic, but he tries to remember how new all of this is to him, and he starts to speak, "Hey, Sorey, I--"

Sorey was starting to say something too, and he couldn't quite make it out over his own voice.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Oh, no, you first." Sorey seems happy.

"...I'll tell you when you get here."

A long pause, too long, before Sorey speaks again. "Alright. I can wait."

This is so new. And tomorrow night, the two of them would be sharing this unfamiliar and possibly too-soft bed, he could reach out and touch Sorey in new and unfamiliar ways and the thought excites him, his heart races and heat wells up. "I'm glad I agreed to this." He says thoughtlessly, then hastily adds, "I should get something for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it. Later, Mikleo."

He dwells on the way Sorey said goodbye when he hangs up. He can sound casual and light, but there's always an undercurrent of love in his voice, sweetness that breaks through to the surface in his name. He feels oddly vulnerable as he curls up on the bed, unable to resist and caught in a riptide of heat and lust he's never experienced before. He never asked for this.

 

 

 

The next day, the room is filled with flowers. To his horror, the lily buds aren't even slightly cracked open, so he can do little more than re-cut them into hot water hourly, cover them with plastic, keep the room temperature annoyingly hot and _pray_. He can probably buy more, from Symonne's supply, but he really doesn't want to do that.

The first ones start to open around three in the afternoon and he can finally stop holding his breath. Sorey is getting in after six, so he can keep the room hot until about five; since lilies of the same variety open roughly at the same pace, he's safe. Some of the most beautiful Casablanca Lilies he's ever worked with begin to spread their petals, and the rose lilies he'd picked out (because somehow he knew Alisha would like them, layered petals and no threat of pollen stains) burst open soon after. Buckets of lilies line the room.

The rehearsal is tomorrow, and he has all the vases ready, all the roses cleaned, and he's fully prepped before he has to get the temperature down to something reasonable.

Amidst all those flowers, he smells terrible. He rushes through a shower, then starts to clean up his mess.

Most of the leaves and thorns and cut stems are bagged and set outside the door by five-thirty. Most of it. There's still a small pile in front of the table the hotel provided him, where he got most of the work done, and there's also the issue of the guard petals he'd pulled from the roses…

Alisha hadn't _asked_ him to save them - a lot of brides do, and some grooms, for the wedding night - he just did out of habit. So they're his to do with as he pleases. And that stupid card Lailah read him pops intrusively back into his mind, the thought of preparing the room and himself for Sorey when he gets in...

It's so stupid, but he caves, one swift impulsive decision (and he is _not_ that impulsive, no, this is an oddity in itself) sends rose petals flying over the bed sheets and the floor leading up to it. His stomach ties in knots and he starts to feel ill, starts thinking about maybe cleaning them back up, but at fifteen past six the door opens and his heart skips a beat before jumping in his throat and trying to choke him.

"Mikleo-- Oh, wow." Sorey looks around the room, at Mikleo sitting awkwardly on the bed, and there's that _laugh_ again.

He stands, reaching to help Sorey set his things down, maybe get him out of those clothes--

"You really made a mess in here. Need help cleaning up?"

In that moment, he decides Sorey is a moron.

Sorey keeps asking why he's sighing so much as they clean the room, and he just grumbles about it without really answering. For their first night in a new place, it's far too uneventful for his liking.

 

 

 

Morning, on the other hand, follows a series of dreams he rather enjoyed, and before they melt away to reality he leans over Sorey to tiredly kiss him awake, gentle but bold. After he's briefly startled, Sorey reciprocates, hands finding Mikleo's waist and resting there until he sits back up. "Good morning."

Sorey smiles up at him, cheeks tinged with pink and eyes tired, "Morning." He says, hand rubbing along Mikleo's side affectionately. "That's a nice way to wake up. We should do that more often."

It could have been nicer, Mikleo almost points out, but he bites his tongue and kisses Sorey again, "I have to get started on the pieces for the rehearsal."

"What time is it?"

"Nine. I slept in a little."

Sorey groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes before turning his attention back to Mikleo. "I'll go get us something to eat while you work, then."

"Would you mind asking the staff for some boxes to carry centerpieces in? Um, like boxes they'd use to pack wine in, with dividers."

"Sure." But before he gets out of bed, one more kiss. They're getting better at this. Sorey gets changed in front of him (and he doesn't _stare_ , okay?) and once he's out of the room, Mikleo sighs heavily.

A few extra minutes of internal meltdowns and he throws on clothes he can work in, starting with carefully removing all of the pollen from open lilies so the petals won't stain. His hands and clothes will, but the flowers are safe. Sorey comes in as he's preparing them for use, setting a plate of warm food in front of him and then hugging him around the waist from behind, as always. And now they're in the unique position where this _could_  go further, but Sorey's breathing feels all wrong against him, like he's nervous.

If that's all though, it's fine. Mikleo ought to get his work done anyway.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?"

Mikleo's heart speeds, not races, and his breathing hitches in a way he knows Sorey catches. "Was there? I forgot."

"That's convenient." His tone says he's doubtful, and that's the first time Mikleo has heard it from him.

"...I'll tell you if I remember."

"Will you?" Mikleo just nods in response, leaning back a little into Sorey's arms. They tighten around him and he takes it to mean that Sorey was satisfied with that. "Why are your hands yellow?"

They're never going to have a decent mood between them, at this rate. He smiles anyway, turning and smearing the pollen stain on Sorey's cheek without warning. "Now your face is."

"What the--" he pauses, then grins, hands sliding back to Mikleo's sides threateningly, "Mikleo…"

Mikleo finds himself in a strange position where he can't fight back because the pollen on his hands won't come out of clothes, and Sorey seems to have figured that out quickly (so there _are_ some things he can pick up on), pinning him between himself and the table as he tickled his sides. Mikleo laughs until it hurts, writhing to try and get away, and eventually just rubs his hands on Sorey's face and neck, covering him with the yellow-orange stain.

That gets Sorey to stop, "This comes out, right?"

"Sure. Easily," He lies. "Soap and hot water. Go ahead and get a shower, you smell anyway."

A half hour later, Sorey comes out of the bathroom still tinted yellow, and very annoyed (though his annoyance seems more playful than anything, because that's just the kind of person Sorey is, and it's charming). Mikleo knows how to get the pollen out, but he's going to let him suffer just a little longer first.

He makes the throw bouquet for the rehearsal rather than the real one, with a note for Alisha saying he wants to give the lilies more time to open wider before using them. He isn't part of the wedding party, but Sorey is, so he takes it, face still stained, and Mikleo sets up the centerpieces in the dining room during the time the rehearsal goes on.

He's working on getting the containers for the altar pieces ready when Sorey walks in, and he sets it all aside to give his attention to him. "So, how is it? Pendrago's Shrinechurch?"

"Well, it might have been better if Lucas and Boris would've been able to ignore my face." Sorey says with a wry smile. "Your hands are clean."

"Fine, I'll show you." Mikleo laughs and blocks Sorey's hand from reaching for his sides again, instead grabbing it and pulling him to the sink. "Look at me?"

"Always."

He reddens, "Shut up."

He cleans everything from Sorey's face in silence with the cleaning solution dabbed onto a towel, his heart beating heavy in his chest the whole time.

 _I love you_.

He tries out the words in his head, mouthing them silently while Sorey's eyes are closed. It's his own rehearsal, in a way. He'll say it soon enough.

 

 

 

The bouquet for the bride is the last piece he makes, at noon. Symonne's words taunt him. As far as brides go, Alisha has been one of the kindest and easiest to handle, and her family spent a great deal on the wedding, so he wants to do something nice for her. But it's true, the flowers all in white look incredibly plain.

He adds unopened lily buds for texture and coiled ti leaves for style, but it doesn't seem like enough, and it ends up being large and he's suddenly worried that it might just look like a white blob to people in the back row. Sorey has been watching him fret over it for a while, and has started looking concerned.

"It's really beautiful." He tries, but it does nothing to mollify Mikleo.

"It's what she asked for, but…" He starts, turning it over in his hands. The shape and flow of it are both perfect, he just doesn't know what to do about the color. "Maybe I've stared at it too long."

"Her dress has pink in it. Would that help?"

"...Like, blush? Baby? Salmon? 'Pink' isn't that helpful."

Sorey looks at the ceiling thoughtfully, "Like your face when you're embarrassed."

" _You are not helpful._ "

But Sorey laughs at him. "Very soft. The color of the bridesmaid's dresses."

"...Do you think she'd mind if I added something?"

Sorey shakes his head and smiles, "She'll love whatever you hand her. She actually said she liked the throw bouquet enough to just use that."

Somehow he ought to be amused that the biggest wedding of the year for their shop has the least nit-picky bride he's ever met, but he's not surprised. She and the groom are both friends of Sorey's after all.

Instead of pink flowers, he fishes pink gem-tipped pins out of his supplies and stabs them into the center of each white rose in the bouquet around the lilies. It's just enough to liven it up, he decides, and they pass the dining room arrangements to the hotel staff to set up once the reception hall is ready and take the arrangements for the shrinechurch themselves. It takes two trips, and all afternoon to set up, pews decorated with more lilies and fairy lights, the front of the church covered in arrangements that he's glad they don't have to clean up.

Alisha cries when Mikleo hands her the bouquet, and her makeup has to be redone. There's barely enough time for him and Sorey to get changed into formal clothing in the end, but Mikleo feels it's worth it, a swelling of pride at every gasping guest in the church remarking on how stunning it is.

Sorey comes to find him, groom in tow, before the ceremony starts. "Hey, Mikleo, um." He seems oddly nervous, unwilling to make eye contact. "Sergei wanted to ask you something."

"First of all, thank you for all your hard work. I'm glad Alisha chose you as her florist."

"N-not at all," He says awkwardly, unused to this situation (Lailah usually takes care of it). "What did you need?"

"Well, I was wondering, if perhaps you'd…" He clears his throat, somehow even managing to make _that_ look formal and stiff, "If you'd saved the flower petals. My brother told me I should have decorated our room and I've been thoughtless."

Mikleo can feel himself burning up with embarrassment, "...Yeah. Yeah, I should have saved enough. I can… I can try and discreetly send them during the reception."

Sergei thanks him emphatically, shaking both of his hands, and Sorey lingers after he's left.

"...So."

To avoid saying anything, he makes a show of pretending to adjust Sorey's boutonniere.

"Sorry," Sorey says quietly, since they're standing close enough. One hand slides around Mikleo's body and he kisses him ever so briefly, "I honestly didn't know."

"It's fine," Mikleo says quickly, "You're an idiot. I love you anyway."

Sorey pulls away, stunned, and Mikleo turns to find a seat while throwing a silencing gesture over his shoulder. They both keep stealing awkward glances at each other throughout the ceremony. Mikleo knows that someday he'll die of embarrassment.

 

 

They swap placecards with someone so that Mikleo can sit at Sorey's left at the reception. It's convenient since that way, they can sit close and hold hands under the table, his dominant hand is all he really needs to use above it. Sergei needlessly reminds him of the petals after it's already taken care of, and once the first dance is over, Sorey drags Mikleo onto the floor. Neither of them can dance, but the song is slow and easy, so they don't embarrass themselves much.

"This isn't moving too quickly, is it?" Sorey isn't talking about the song. Mikleo looks over at the band instead.

"Maybe. I wouldn't know." It felt right though, he didn't say. The warm hands always on his waist felt wonderful and kind, and he would never mind if they started wandering.

They're silent until the song ends, and Sorey takes Mikleo's hand in his, fingers laced together. The bouquet toss is next - things like that would be _way_  too soon, so instead, they walk out of the reception hall for some time to themselves. Then they keep walking, back to their room, sitting together on the bed, and Sorey's gentle smile is so earnest and full of love that Mikleo can only nod, though he isn't sure at first exactly what he's agreeing to.

Something clicks though, and his impatience before is now replaced with shyness.

"Hey, say it again." Sorey says with a bright smile.

He knows what he meant, but can't resist, "That you're an idiot? I'll tell you as many times as you want."

That soft laughter he adores so much rings in his ears as he tugs at Sorey's tie, loosening it while he draws him into another kiss. They're definitely getting better, timid touches emboldened by the confidence that they're on the same page for once. Through all of their little failings, all the surprises the night had to offer, echoed murmurs of sweet nothings flow freely and comfortably. He awakens with Sorey in his arms the next morning.

The scent of flowers still fills the room, and he decides to sleep in late, hold on just a while longer before Sorey wakes up and they're distracted by sightseeing.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lily=Purity, Virginity]
> 
> (yes, that is an actual card my shop has gotten. I have a whole list of my favorites to pick from here, don't get me started)

**Author's Note:**

> [Lilac=first emotions of love]


End file.
